


Grazin' in the Grasses

by clandestinegardenias



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M, Pet, aka Ancel and Berenger bang, and also Damen and Laurent bang, and everyone is happy and joyous and in love, post-pet, the last two chapters that needed to be there but weren't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 20:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13465848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clandestinegardenias/pseuds/clandestinegardenias
Summary: "I…I mean you do - want me?"It's the first time he's heard hesitation from Ancel, the first fleeting suggestion of shyness or concern.He never wants to hear it again.





	Grazin' in the Grasses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phyona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phyona/gifts).



> I couldn’t deal with how ‘Pet’ ended, so I wrote the rest of it. Or at least, my version of the rest of it. The first part starts exactly where ‘Pet’ left off - the second is set some time after ‘The Adventures of Charls’ and of course I had to throw in some Damen and Laurent because they deserved to show up in the final short story (and no the garden scene DOES NOT COUNT). 
> 
> Dedicated to Phyona because she got me into this damn fandom in the first place <3

"What if he wins?"

Berenger can hardly process the question, his mind a blur of misremembrances. Of saying 'You're too good at faking this' and hearing in response 'I'm very good'. At the time, it had been everything he needed to know. But now - he hardly dared hope, but Ancel has a devilish look in his eye. 

The young man saunters closer to Berenger, and it's true. He is very good. 

Every fantasy of the last few months plays crazily across Berenger's consciousness. Ancel splayed on his back, given over to pleasure - lost to the point where he isn't faking it anymore. Where he can't. 

Long pale fingers brush his chest, and though his face remains calm, his heart is giving him away. Ancel glances up at him through long lashes, eyes impossibly green like the emeralds that he favors. Berenger steels himself to deny this, as well, but then Ancel's look softens. His beautiful brow furrows slightly.

"I…I mean you do - want me?"

It's the first time he's heard hesitation from Ancel, the first fleeting suggestion of shyness or concern. 

He never wants to hear it again. 

His arm circles Ancel's back and he tugs gently, pulling their bodies against each other. They're both breathing heavily, chests pushing together, silk catching on the rough material of Berenger's jacket. How could Ancel have doubted this? How could he have noticed the clandestine meetings with the Prince, so carefully hidden, and yet be oblivious to everything Berenger wanted? 

His fingers sink into long red hair. 

Ancel leans in, hands splayed against Berenger's chest, and mouths hotly at the junction of his neck and jaw. Berenger can't help the tremble that runs through his arms, and he feels Ancel grin against his skin. Fuck. What has he gotten himself into. 

Cool air on his skin - Ancel is carelessly unbuttoning his jacket as he kisses down Berenger's chest, shoving the garment down his arms until it catches at his wrists. Berenger shrugs it off. The lightest touch on the young man's chin brings his attention up, looking at Berenger and awaiting instruction. It hurts. 

Slowly and carefully, Berenger leans down until their lips brush with the merest suggestion of a kiss. 

"I want you to fuck me" he says, roughened voice just loud enough for Ancel to hear it. He feels the press of Ancel, long and hot, against his hip and he's never wanted anything more. 

Ancel is wordless as he pulls Berenger down by the back of his neck, fitting their mouths together. What's been simmering between them pushes over the edge. The kiss is deep and hot and desperate, little breathy noises escaping from them both. It's intoxicating, and before Berenger knows it he's divested Ancel of his ridiculous flimsy clothing - finally has his hands on that expanse of pale freckled skin. He wants to leave fingerprint-shaped bruises, then sooth them with his tongue. 

Abruptly, Ancel pulls away, grabbing Berenger's hand and dragging him forcefully towards the bedroom. Beregner finds himself pushed forcefully down on the plush covers, naked but for his tightly laced pants. Ancel looks like a wild, erotic fever dream standing at the end of the bed between his legs. His hair is everywhere, and his eyes blaze. His attention focuses on the last remaining barrier to his goal, and he kneels to undo Berenger's laces with his teeth. 

It's unbearably arousing, and Ancel looks at his cock like it's the first time he's ever really wanted to use his mouth on a man. The idea that this could be true arouses Berenger to the point of pain, and when Ancel gently tongues at the slit, he almost can't hold back. He expects Ancel to grin flirtatiously, but the young man looks as serious as Berenger has ever seen him. Then a smile rivaling the sun breaks over his face, and they're kissing again like they can't bear to stop, grinning and giggling like boys. 

After a long interval comprising the most joyous moments of Berenger's life, Ancel turns serious again. 

"I've almost never done it to someone. I don't want to hurt you. Is it…possible to make it not hurt?"

Berenger freezes, half propped up on his elbows, then strokes Ancel's cheek with a tenderness that completely gives him away. He tries to ignore that he's just laid all his cards on the table and pulls Ancel down, holding him tightly and stroking a strong, steady hand down his back. Their urgency eases off and for several minutes they just rest and take comfort from the embrace. 

The heat builds back up slowly, languid as they run exploratory hands over each other's bodies. Soft, closed-mouth kisses open and the earlier desperation sneaks back into the pace with which they grind against each other. 

The sound Ancel makes when he rolls away just enough to grab the bottle of oil makes Berenger want to never leave this room. As Ancel watches him with wide eyes, drinking everything in, Berenger slicks his fingers and opens himself up. 

From there, everything seems to speed up and slow down all at once. Ancel is buried deep inside him, gasping and swearing and clutching ineffectively at Berenger's broad shoulders. Berenger is rolling his hips, encouraging Ancel into a slow, deep rhythm. He slicks his hand again and works himself over with long, deliberate strokes. They're both shaking apart, sweating and dizzy and undone. 

Ancel doesn't say anything when he comes, just buries his head in Berenger's shoulder as he tenses and unloads deep inside. It's the silence that tells Berenger he's not alone; it's never been like this for either of them. He comes in messy spurts all over both of them, keeping Ancel as deep inside him as he can. They don't pull apart, just roll the sheets around them and collapse into sleep tangled up in one another. 

Half way through the night, Berenger wakes up and fetches a wet towel to clean them both off. Ancel makes sounds like a kitten, still half asleep. "Does this mean my contract is renewed?" he slurs, and Berenger manages to keep a completely straight face.

"I am going to cover you in every jewel the realm has to offer". 

"Even the King's? Hmm, you're so good to me". 

They curl back into each other like parentheses and drift back into sweet sleep. 

 

Part 2 - Post The Adventures of Charls

Even though the King has instituted a new policy of consummating the royal marriage behind a screen, the council is still required to attend and confirm that it has indeed been consummated. 

It works like this: Laurent, the King of Vere, and his husband Damianos, the King of Akeilos, greet the new council. They step behind the translucent screen, backlit by numerous lamps, and start very slowly by undressing each other. Berenger is fine with this, on the one hand. He has no desire to see a performance typical of Veretian entertainment. Although lately the nature of that entertainment has changed drastically. 

On the other hand, he wishes it would just be over with already. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. 

Laurent's head is bent, and Damianos is unlacing his jacket while kissing his neck. 

Berenger's mind characteristically drifts to Ancel. He had been desperate to attend the royal consummation, but that was one favor Berenger did not feel capable of asking the King. He had already been rewarded handsomely with a position on the royal council and more land than he could have ever hoped for. Instead he had promised Ancel a new emerald ear drop and a detailed account of what he witnessed tonight. It is, really, the only reason he is paying any attention at all to what's happening. 

Both Kings are naked now, although for some reason Laurent still has on his tall laced boots. They are so gentle with each other, soft kisses slowly - so very slowly - turning deeper. 

It makes Berenger ache for Ancel. The Kings' new legislation regarding the remaining pets in the Veretian capital overthrew the contract system, although enforcement is messy and some noble women and men are resisting the changes. The law allows pets to resign their status in exchange for guaranteed life-long civil service jobs in the capital. They are allowed to retain their relationships with their former masters, if desired, but are no longer legally bound to them. 

Unless they choose to be bound to them by other means. 

Berenger and Ancel's wedding had taken place mere months after the contract system was abolished. It had been even more extravagant that King Laurent and King Damen's ceremony, which was, in Berenger's opinion, restrained and tasteful. 

With Berenger's new position on the council, he and Ancel are often in the capital. It allows his husband to work as one of the new wave of Veretian entertainers, performing daring physical feats that help replicate the shock and awe of the now-outlawed performance rapes. 

Recently, Laurent commissioned Ancel to help found a fire dancing school to train the next generation of Veretian entertainers. Ancel had preened under the praise and attention, and Berenger couldn't be prouder. 

Noises bring his attention back to the present - Laurent is on top of Damen, buried deep inside of him. The big Akeilon is talking in a constant, breathless stream, half in Veretian and half in Akeilon. 

Berenger catches only a few words; "I'm…Laurent…ah….love….do…please…always", and then the soft sweet noises two men make as they finish. 

And then…another gasp. Not from the Kings. And a muffled clatter. The guards at the doors immediately become alert, searching for the source of the sound. Before they can make use of their spears, however, a slight red-headed man stumbles out from behind a series of potted ferns, his face nearly matching his hair. 

Ancel's eyes find Berenger's almost without thought, and his expression splits into an ecstatic smile. I saw it and It was worth it. His utter glee almost makes Berenger think the blow to both their reputations is worth it. 

Quiet, serene, exuding confidence and control over the situation he strides down the steps to collect his husband, laying a protective - and gently directing - arm across his shoulder. He spins Ancel around and is treated to an unimpeded view of two very naked, very post-coital kings. Ancel knows how to choose a place with a view.

He tears his eyes away and leads Ancel to the doors, doing his best to make it look as if he will have a long talk with him about decorum. 

In fact, his plans involve no talking whatsoever, and even less decorum. He smiles softly and tugs at Ancel's silks. This - his entire future - stretches ahead of him, shining like the rising sun on grass, like green silk spilled over a bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Would love to hear from you if you liked this! 
> 
> Also this is the song that popped into my mind when trying to imagine the feel of this piece...so that became the relatively nonsensical title. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjYrski71II


End file.
